


The Winter Menaces

by 14CookiesGone



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Pre-Relationship, but not for long, duck is also a menace, indrid is a menace, indrid makes the first move
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 14:45:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19231240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/14CookiesGone/pseuds/14CookiesGone
Summary: Indrid appears at Ducks door before a snowstorm with the news that the Winnebago generator is out. Duck lets him in, becuase who can leave a friend out to freeze.While Duck’s mind was otherwise occupied, he failed to notice Indrids breathing pattern change to signal he was waking up. What he didn’t fail to notice was the deliberate grinding of Indrids hips backwards into something that was now definitely more than a small problem.“Good morning, Duck,” Indrid said, and even without seeing his face, Duck could tell there was an unnaturally wide grin plastered across it. Duck couldn’t breathe. He was going to die. He was going to die and he was going straight to hell for how he was currently thinking of his friend.





	The Winter Menaces

Winter had hit Kepler almost suddenly, with biting winds and sharp frosts. The generator in Indrids Winnebago had packed up right at what could possibly have been the worst snowstorm on record. He had arrived at Duck’s apartment only a few hours into the storm when the roads were still relatively clear, shivering and incredibly pale, and wrapped in not nearly enough layers to be outside. Duck had taken one look at the miserable expression on Indrids face, and stepped aside to let him in. He made a beeline for the heaters in the living room, swiping Duck’s discarded blanket from the back of the couch as he went past.

“Alrigh’ then,” Duck muttered to himself, closing the door quietly, before making his way into the kitchen. He rooted around in the cupboards for the supplies to make hot chocolate, knowing that Indrid had recently taken a liking to the drink, but only if Duck was the one making it. Duck refused to tell him his secret recipe, but that was because he added about three spoonfuls of sugar to the already sweet chocolate mixture, and then added a dash of cinnamon. The one time Indrid had tried to make it for himself it had gone so terribly wrong, that he vowed that Duck was the best and only person allowed to make such a beverage. At that statement, Duck had snorted out a laugh, but indulged the other mans peculiarities anyway. From the living room, Duck could hear the telltale signs of Indrid talking to his cat, and he bit back a smile. The way the sylph fawned over the smaller creature filled Ducks heart with a feeling that he couldn’t quite explain. 

“Yes kitty, soon we will have the most delectable treat ever presented to us…” The words drifted through the open door between the living room and the kitchen as Duck stirred the milk into the powdered mix before putting the mug into the microwave. He was thankful that he had moved Beacon out of the mug cupboard the other day, as he didn’t want a repeat of the time that Ned visited. The sword had shouted up a storm about Duck needing to  _ train _ and not having friends as  _ distractions _ when he had opened up the door to retrieve an extra mug. Ned had laughed at the abruptness of Beacon, but somehow Duck knew that Indrid may not have the same reaction. And considering the seer had become a more regular fixture in Ducks life recently, the sword had been relocated to the hall closet, much to its disgust. Though it did little to stifle the indignant cries, Duck had told Beacon to shut the fuck up before he used him as a toilet plunger, and then slammed the door on him. Indrid chuckled from the living room, still talking to the cat, as Duck heard the microwave ping. Retrieving the mug, he gave it a quick stir before adding a handful of mini marshmallows, and after a moment of thought, a generous helping of whipped cream on top. Duck was learning more and more about Indrids sweet tooth as their friendship blossomed. Making his way back into the living room, he couldn't help but smile at the pile of blankets with two pairs of eyes that was bundled up in front of the heater. Indrid had the kitten tucked in his arms, his chin hovering just above the top of its head, and then blankets wrapped completely around the both of them.

"Figured you might need a bit of a pick-me-up," Duck said with a chuckle, offering the steaming mug down to the blanket pile. A slim, pale arm snuck out of the mound, and took the drink gratefully. The fingers of the hand still holding the kitten scratched under its chin, as Indrid took a sip, and Duck could have sworn that he heard two lots of purring come from in front of him. His chest filled again with the inexplicable feeling as he watched Indrids tongue flick out and gather up a stream of melted cream where it threatened to run off the bottom of the mug. That seemingly innocent action made Ducks cheeks flame. He gulped hastily, and before he turned away, he saw Indrid flash him the most wicked of grins.

 

An hour or so later, after Indrid had warmed up enough to not need to be sat literally on top of the heater, he shuffled his way across the living room to sit next to Duck on the sofa, retrieving his sketchbook off the coffee table as he came. It was a spare one that he kept at Ducks apartment, which came in useful the amount of time he had found himself spending there in the last few months. Duck shifted his legs allowing Indrid more space to sit, and the sylph slotted comfortably in the space, leaning into the rangers body to leech as much heat as he could. Indrid arranged the blankets so that they covered the both of them, and Duck wrapped an arm around Indrids shoulders. As he pulled him in flush against his side, Duck thought he heard the sylph purr again at the touch and decided to leave his arm where it was. He returned his attention back to idly flicking through the only channels that the television received. Indrid rested his head on Ducks shoulder and the sketchbook on his legs, and flipped through it to the first empty page. Taking the pencil from its place in the spine, he began to draw out the image of Ducks cat curled in her basket by the heater. His hands skimmed the page lightly as he worked, and Ducks attention was pulled from the screen to watch the movements of the pencil. It was the most basic of sketches, but he was always amazed by the grace and beauty, and almost photorealistic accuracy of Indrids drawings. Duck had watched Indrid with his notepad spread in front of him many times, but never in such close proximity. With the basket sketch only half completed, Indrid began to sketch another drawing of the animal, this time at full stretch, and Duck could almost see the tail twitching. He glanced across to the basket, and the kitten was not even in the room. Smiling to himself, he began to trace his fingers on Indrids shoulder lightly enough to be almost an absentminded action. 

“I can’t believe that you can capture her that well from memory,” Duck commented, watching as Indrid moved onto a third sketch of the kitten on the same page. He heard Indrid let out a small chuckle, that could also have been a sigh.

“These are not sketches from memory, Duck. These are just excerpts from possible futures. And considering all she does is eat, sleep and play, the likelihood of these futures coming to pass is very likely. I have seen these images a lot, and more often in recent weeks. It calms me to see them laid out on the paper.” Duck could have kicked himself. Of course Indrid could invision his cat so well, he had plenty of reference points to work with. 

“Oh.” It was the only thought that crossed his mind as he continued to watch the pencil move across the paper. His fingers also continued to lightly caress Indrids shoulder. Indrid barely registered the image, before almost seamlessly moving onto the kitten in a fourth position, a paw slightly raised to bat at the feather toy that was installed next to the door of the kitchen. Duck could almost see the playful expression on her face, and he grinned, leaning his head forward to rest on the top of Indrids to get a slightly better look. 

“Yes,” Indrid said, and it had the air of a reply to an unanswered question. He carefully ripped the page out of the sketchbook and smoothed it out. Duck froze, his hand stilled on Indrids shoulder, and he wasn’t exactly sure which of the fifteen questions he had swirling around in his head that Indrid had answered. “Oh, sorry. In one timeline you asked aloud if you could keep these. I believe you should put it on the door to your fridge.” Relaxing again, Duck brought his hand up to smooth Indrids hair down where it was beginning to tickle his face. Duck could feel Indrid lean ever so slightly into the touch as he did so, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of the interaction. He cleared his throat.

"Uhm, yeah, I really would like to uhm keep the picture unless you need it for your futures?" He reached forward to take the page from Indrid, their fingers brushing, causing the feeling of a jolt of electricity to shoot up Ducks arm. It took all of his self control not to react as if he had been burnt as the feeling of Indrids skin touching his lingered longer than the actual contact itself. Duck was pretty sure he could see a dusting of pink start to colour Indrids cheeks, but he convinced himself that it was just the reflection of light from the red tinted glasses. 

“I am sure that your cat will not be playing such a significant part in the likely futures that I cannot spare just a few sketches of her,” Indrid replied, shifting his weight again so that Duck had no choice but to pull him closer again, lest he fall off the sofa. Duck could smell lingering vanilla and cinnamon wafting from Indrid at this close proximity, and found the aroma almost intoxicating. He wasn’t sure quite why he was reacting to Indrid in such a manner. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t hugged the seer before. Indrid discarded the sketchbook onto the coffee table, and all but snuggled into Ducks chest, humming contentedly. 

“Uhm, Indrid, what’cha doin’ there bud?” Duck choked out, though his arms instinctively wrapped tighter around the body using him as a pillow. Indrid wrapped an arm over his waist under the blankets, tightening the embrace, before looking up at Ducks face through his eyelashes. From this angle, Duck could just see Indrids reddish brown eyes over the top of his glasses, and his breathing hitched. Paired with the puppy dog expression on the face below him, he felt any kind of resistance melt away. 

“You are warm, Duck Newton. And I have been scanning the possible futures for the last hour. I know you will not let a poor, helpless creature freeze on such a bitterly cold winter night.” Duck gulped. He was fucked. And he was pretty sure Indrid knew it.

 

He didn’t remember falling asleep with Indrid on the sofa. He didn’t remember laying down with the skinner man cradled safely against his chest. But he had just been so comfortable, and Indrid had been right. He wasn’t the sort of person to not help out when needed, no matter what it cost. He had tried to be, once, a long time ago. But since joining the Pine Guard, his empathy levels had shot through the roof. Which would explain why, at 7am on a Saturday morning, he was jolted awake by his kitten jumping up to join them under the blankets. Duck was also aware of the crick in his neck and the dull ache in his back from sleeping on his too old sofa. From the sounds of the small snores coming from in front of him, Indrid was still fast asleep. For once, he actually felt slightly warm to the touch, and Duck was glad in a way that he had come over, rather than allowing himself to basically freeze to death up in the powerless Winnebago out of not wanting to disturb his friends. Uncomfortable sofa aside, Duck stroked his cat gently while he considered his options. He was torn between getting up and making up a pot of coffee, or staying exactly where he was for another hour or two. He closed his eyes, trying to make up his mind, and as he did so, Indrid shifted back as close as possible into Duck in his sleep and mumbled under his breath. 

“Mmmm … Feels nice… Mmm Duck.” Duck was now painfully aware of just how close they were, and also another small problem arising in the near future. He was damn glad that Indrid was still asleep, as he tried to control his breathing, and think of anything besides how good Indrid felt wrapped up in his embrace, and how well they seemed to fit together, despite the size differences. While Duck’s mind was otherwise occupied, he failed to notice Indrids breathing pattern change to signal he was waking up. What he  _ didn’t _ fail to notice was the deliberate grinding of Indrids hips backwards into something that was now definitely more than a  _ small _ problem.

“Good morning, Duck,” Indrid said, and even without seeing his face, Duck could tell there was an unnaturally wide grin plastered across it. Duck couldn’t breathe. He was going to die. He was going to die and he was going straight to hell for how he was currently thinking of his friend. 

“Uhh... Mornin’ Indrid, I gotta - fuck - um I need to get up - shit no - uhh…” Duck trailed off, coherent thought having apparently deserted him. The ability to move had also apparently turned tail and left, and he was frozen in place, an arm wrapped protectively around Indrids chest, and Indrids ass - his small, perfect ass - pressed right up against his crotch. He didn’t know how he could feel heat in his face from embarrassment when all the blood in his body seemed to be located exactly where he didn’t want it to be and yet here he was. Thankfully, finally, Indrid moved to sit up and stretch, blankets pooling to his waist as he moved. Adjusting his glasses to sit more securely on his face, he turned to Duck, and smiled. 

“Did you sleep well? I had such pleasant dreams.” Duck blinked at the man in front of him, who seemed almost unaffected by the compromising position he had been in only moments ago. He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again, still unable to think straight. He ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it, and also to try and stall a little longer to gather his thoughts. It didn’t help that Indrid was just  _ staring _ at him with such an easy smile that was just on the right side of unnerving. 

“I uhh, yeah I guess I slept well, thanks for askin’,” he replied. It was the best he could do, and he was very thankful that the blankets were still covering his lap. Maybe he had imagined Indrids movements only moments ago. He put it down to wishful thinking, and willed the problem in his trousers away. “D’you want breakfast? Coffee?” He hoped the regular conversation would help get his brain back on track. He saw, rather than heard, Indrid let out a small sigh, before the sylph quickly recovered. 

“Breakfast sounds wonderful. What were you thinking?” Before Duck could even open his mouth to respond, Indrid chimed in. “Ooh, pancakes sound wonderful.”

“Are you sure you’re not  **a mind reader** ?”

“ **A mind reader?** No, there was just a very high probability that you were going to offer me your speciality chocolate chip pancakes, and I did not want to take the chances of my other options.” Duck rolled his eyes. Of course the sweet toothed creature wanted chocolate chip pancakes. “Yes you do have all of the ingredients.” Laughing, Duck waved his hand, motioning Indrid towards the kitchen. 

“If you know that fuckin’ much about my kitchen supplies then maybe you oughta be the one makin’ breakfast.” Indrid joined in with the laughter.

“Oh no, Duck. I do not need foresight to tell me that would not end very well at all.”

 

As Duck busied himself making breakfast, Indrid sat perched on a bar stool at the counter with his sketchbook in front of him. It was open to a blank page, but he was making no effort to draw anything. Instead, he had opted to watch Duck move between the fridge, the cupboards and the stove top. Duck wasn’t quite sure why Indrid took that much pleasure watching him, but he hummed quietly under his breath while he worked nonetheless. It was an aimless hum, one that started out of nowhere to no song in particular, and somewhere along the way it had morphed into a happy little tune. It calmed him to hum, and he had all but forgotten the predicament that he had woken up with. The fact that Indrid hadn’t even mentioned it also helped, but Ducks mind occasionally did wander to what might have happened if the sylph hadn’t gotten up when he did. While he waited for the first pancake to cook, Duck poured a glass of orange juice before placing it in front of Indrid. Now that the blood flow had returned to his upstairs brain, he remembered the last time that Indrid had tried coffee, and even with about twelve sugars and creamers in it Indrid had declared it ‘the devil's nectar’ and ‘completely undrinkable’. After he had spat the mouthful over an unsuspecting Duck. 

“Thank you,” Indrid said softly, picking up the glass and taking a large mouthful. “You remembered about the coffee.” 

“Didn’ wanna get covered in ya discarded beverage again,” Duck said with a chuckle. Of course, Indrid laughed at this too, and once again spat out his drink, though this time it was out of unbridled mirth and not contempt. “Well shit.”

“Oh goodness,” Indrid spluttered. “ I guess I did not see that coming.”

“You didn’t see it coming? Jesus Indrid you’re supposed to be the one with the future sight an’ all that. How’d you not see yourself spittin’ up all over me again?” Duck was only pretending to be mad, and Indrid was already reaching for the roll of paper towels on the counter to help clean up his mess. Making quick work of the juice on the counter, Indrid then focused his clean up attempts on the wet patch on Duck’s chest. Duck could feel his heart pounding as Indrids hands dabbed gently at his chest. He could see the sylphs hands practically trembling, and caught a hold of them easily. He didn’t even register the movement as something that a friend wouldn’t do. 

“You cold?” Duck asked, while gently wrapping his hands around Indrids. “You’re shakin’.” Indrid shook his head. 

“No colder than usual,” he replied, squeezing the rangers hands. “You, however, are about to burn something.” Duck whirled around, and rescued the pancake moments before it blackened. He also noted the quick subject changed that Indrid had supplied.

“Thanks for that, can’t be servin’ up burnt breakfast now can I?” 

“It is probably fortunate that I can see when you are about to make errors then, is it not?” Indrid quipped back nonchalantly. Duck threw the empty juice carton at him. He wasn’t surprised when it didn’t hit its intended mark, but it made him feel better anyway. 

 

After breakfast was eaten and cleared away, Duck actually paid attention to the scene outside his bedroom window as he started getting dressed. The amount of snowfall overnight was incredible, and he was very glad that Indrid was somewhere warm. Generators and space heaters aside, RVs were just not suitable for Keplers winters. He dreaded to think of previous winters. He shivered, before pulling on the comfiest clothes he owned and heading back out into the living room. Indrid was sat on the sofa, staring blankly into the middle distance, hands floating effortlessly over the paper in front of him which he was barely even looking at. Duck sighed and went to sit at his desk to work on his current ship. Indrid had gone into this mode a few times in Duck’s presence before, and it was only when something was drastically changing in the future that he behaved so erratically. He knew it was best not to disturb the sylph when he was so deep in visions. Indrid would return to the relative present soon enough. Picking up his tools, Duck soon found himself lost in the tiny model in front of him. 

 

“Duck.” The sound of Indrids voice directly behind him had made him jolt and nearly drop the small boat in his hand and clutch at his chest. 

“Fuck Indrid, I wish you wouldn’ sneak around like that,” Duck muttered. “Could give a guy a heart attack.” All Indrid did was laugh. 

“There was no possibility of you having a heart attack. You are being overdramatic, dear.” No, this was it. NOW Duck was having a heart attack. Hearing the pet name fall so easily off Indrids tongue had made his heart swell. He hadn’t meant it in the way it was said. Duck knew that, and yet still he hoped. 

“I’m an old man. You can’t just test your theories on me.” Indrid rolled his eyes, and stepped forward to place his hands on Ducks shoulders and look into his eyes. Duck blushed at the proximity, and cast his eyes down, away from Indrids gaze, not that he could see anything behind the lenses. It didn’t stop him knowing that Indrid was staring directly at him though.

“There are so many things wrong with that statement. Firstly, you are not old. Middle aged at worst. Secondly, there were many futures that I have looked at today, and you are present and healthy in all of them, and therefore, no heart attack.” Indrid punctuated his sentence by sliding his hands up to hold Ducks cheeks and force him to look back up. “Do you not trust me?” The honeyed tone of Indrids voice made Duck lick his lips involuntarily.

“Of course I do, I was just sayin’ that…” whatever the end of Ducks sentence was, it had been cut off by Indrid pressing his lips to Ducks own. The only person now who might know the end of the sentence was Indrid, because Ducks brain had now officially short circuited. It had been threatening to ever since Indrid had arrived, and now it had. The only thought going round his head was just how good it felt to finally feel the press of the sylphs lips against his. He lifted his hands to hold Indrids hips and all but pulled him onto his lap in the small desk chair. When they finally broke apart for air, Indrid rested his forehead against Ducks, and Duck could see just how many freckles dusted across the sylphs face. He wanted to kiss them all. Indrids voice cut that thought off before he had a chance to act on it.

“I have been wanting to do that since I arrived here yesterday,” Indrid said with a small chuckle. “You are just not very good at picking up hints, Duck Newton.” Duck snorted a laugh.

“I picked ‘em up I just didn’ realise that they were hints. I thought it was a bit of my own wishful thinking.” At this, Indrid had to move away to laugh. 

“I knew that was coming I just was not expecting that kind of delivery.” He sank down onto the sofa in a fit of giggles. “I have been seeing nothing but your ‘wishful thinking’ for weeks, Duck.” He actually used air quotes around the words wishful thinking, and Duck thought he was going to burst with laughter. “Do you want me to tell you something?” Indrid raised an eyebrow, regarding Duck in complete seriousness from across the room. Obviously this was only a 50/50 shot of how he would reply, which was why Indrid was waiting for the reply. 

“Go for it,” Duck said. “ Can’t be any worse than finding out you knew I had a thing for ya before I even did.” Indrid grinned widely, but not unnervingly so, before his face reverted back to his neutral expression.

“There is nothing wrong with the generator on my Winnebago. I came over here for purely selfish reasons. I wanted to force your hand, after having seen so many  _ favourable _ futures involving us.” Indrid said all of this with an expression that was almost completely deadpan, that Duck stood up from his desk chair and stalked across the room.

“You mean to say,” he started, taking deliberately slow steps. “That you have been drivin’ me wild for ya for the last 18 hours or so, for your own personal gain?” By this point, Duck had reached where Indrid was sat, and crowded the sylph until he was completely in his personal space. “You’re tellin’ me that you’ve been pulling the strings like a puppeteer?” Ducks voice was dangerously low and Indrid, backed off slightly. Duck followed the motion until he was straddled across Indrids waist, trapping him on the cushions. Indrid licked his lips unconsciously, enjoying the feeling of the ranger pinning him down easily. Duck placed a hand to either side of Indrids head and stared down at the red lenses of Indrids glasses, and though there was no possible way that Duck could see through them, Indrid could feel them lock eyes and he couldn’t possibly look away. A needy whine escaped his lips before he could stop it. 

“I would not say I was the puppet master, especially considering you do not have any strings to hold you down.” Duck rolled his eyes, bringing his face lower towards Indrids, but still far enough away that Indrid couldn't easily close the gap between them from the position he was in. 

“You did not just quote Pinocchio lyrics at me when I’m about to kiss you,” Duck said with a growl. He closed the gap between them swiftly, holding his weight easily on his arms. Indrid reached up and tangled his fingers into the hair at the nape of Ducks neck, and the sudden chill of them made him gasp. Indrid took this moment to slip his tongue into Ducks mouth, earning him a small moan from the man above him. When they finally broke apart to breathe, Indrid was grinning before Duck even opened his mouth to speak.

“How was that for one of your favourable futures?” Duck asked, before pressing his lips to the soft skin just below Indrids jawline. “Or even this?” Indrid moaned softly at Duck’s kisses, before yelping when the ranger suddenly bit down and scuked - hard - to mark his neck. He did this a couple more times, and Indrid was finding it difficult to process the sensations that he had seen so many times in his visions with the wildly different feelings of having it happen in real time. He huffed out a breath before speaking, Duck still peppering the exposed skin of his neck with open mouthed kisses. 

“I wouldn’t say that this has all been for my personal gain though, would you?” His fingers tangled in Ducks hair again and gave it a tug, bringing the ranger back up to eye level with him. 

“You’re a fuckin’ menace, Cold,” Duck said, pressing a kiss to Indrids forehead, before a realisation hit him like a ton of bricks. “I knew you fuckin’ ground your ass on me on purpose this mornin’.”A shocked, but mostly sarcatsic, gasp followed those words.

“I would never!” The look of mock indignation on Indrids face damn near broke Duck into fits of laughter, but he managed to contain it, before very deliberately pressing his hips down onto the man below him. Indrid gasped and arched his back at the contact, before Duck pulled away and removed himself completely from the embrace to the end of the sofa furthest away from the sylph. He studiously studied his nails, but was watching Indrid out of the corner of his eye. “Now who is being the menace?” Duck grinned turned his full attention back to Indrid. 

“I would never!” came the response in the best imitation of Indrids accent that he could muster, before he finally broke into peals of hysterical laughter. 

“You really are something else, Duck Newton,” Indrid said, sitting up and running a hand through his dishevelled hair. Duck opened his arms and Indrid slipped easily into the embrace.

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.” Duck pressed a kiss to the top of Indrids head as he held him, and he heard the sylph sigh contentedly.

“I suppose you are correct. Though I do wish you could take a hint, at least then we could have wasted less time.” Duck pushed Indrid off him and was pretty shocked when the smaller man hit the floor, considering he had probably seen this coming in at least one future. Before he had time to ask if he was ok, Indrid was rolling on the floor laughing like a drain, and Duck couldn’t help but join in. After a few moments, he managed to calm himself enough to talk. 

“Think you might want to get ya foresight checked out, seems to have short circuited.”

“You’re a fuckn’ menace, Newton.” The repetition of his own words used against him with Indrid attempting his speech patterns and even dropping in the curse word was all too much for Duck. He spluttered with laughter again and ended up sliding off the sofa to join Indrid on the floor. 

“Shall we just say we’re both crazy?” Duck wheezed out, laughter still threatening to take over his words.

“I guess that is a favourable future path.” The cushion Duck threw missed its mark by miles, and the semblance of normality was resumed as the two men sat on the floor of Ducks apartment with tears of laughter streaming down their cheeks. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my second venture into TAZ fanfic I originally only planned on this being about 2k words but then the boys took over and I don't even know what happened after breakfast.
> 
> Things that I have googled for this fic:  
> \- Whatever the fuck a Winnebago actually looks like becuase I am british AF and I know nothing about campers  
> \- What does eggnog smell like  
> \- Do 40yo men get morning wood  
> \- Do moths hibernate (this was just a generalised interest it has nothing to do with what I was actually writing)  
> \- How to build a ship in a bottle  
> \- lyrics to i got no strings


End file.
